Disquises Only Mask The flesh
by Formerly-ForlornShadowlily009
Summary: AU,slash! Naruto is a concubine in konoha. Jaded and used he has ungiven up at the thought of dreams and love. Sasuke is a noble count with a wicked desire. Can love blossom or is it trapped between the folds of a kimono and imprisonment. Review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own this story but not the anime Naruto and its characters

Warning adult themes, yaoi. AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto but I do own this story!

Summary. This is AU! Naruto is a concubine in Konoha. He is chained, imprisoned, and forced to surrender his body every night to hungry men. Thinking that this will never change he gives up on dreams, love, ect. Sasuke is a noble count that comes to The Yellow Dragon and finds Naruto. Will Naruto be able to fall in love and if so what happens when Sasuke doesn't appear to be the kind savior that Naruto thought he was.

Author's Note---Okay I'm tired of people, well two anyway, that say that Naruto is OOC. First of all this is an AU fic so he can't be a fucking ninja. Second of all, I give Naruto a brain here. What, do you expect Naruto to act like a brain dead fool? Do you want him to act retarded and scream loud things? I have edited any errors but I'm sorry if you find any, please read this story and hopefully enjoy it.

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Moans that were one-sided, heated screams that consumed everything.

Such pitiful examples of the sounds that echoed throughout the darkened room. Pain laced with numbness coated him as he listened to the sounds, his ear thumping with the heat of his beating heart. It covered his naked skin, skin that was redden from abrasive contact.

He bit down on his lips. His teeth sinking into his soft skin like a child biting a plump, ripened peach. Copper, metallic, the bitter sting of vermilion flowed freely down his throat. The taste that was slightly bitter soaked into his body and threatened to make him sputter. Gagging silently, he wished to become invisible, to become a nameless stone. Clenching his fists, he prayed for time to defy its normal path and quicken.

As such even the nameless stone had more dignity than him.Oh how that simple thought made him burn with self righteous fury. Anger was second best to him, perfect in the situation that he was presented but useless as a weapon.

In front of him, clinging to his skin like a slimly leech, a man slithered around his form. Biting, sucking, and tearing into his flesh, the beast that dared to call himself a count pleasured himself.

How becoming, how condemning, how affordable.

Shamed, disgusted, and repulsed; these words held no meaning to him, as by now time had taken its toll upon his mind and forced him to accept his fate. His damned destiny. Such a perfect marred image, he would laugh at its overused irony if only he was...permitted to.

His eyes wouldn't abide by it though, as the man, the honorable lord, transformed into a hideous beast. A creature that was spawned in filth, a being that slinked around in the blackened, puss filled liquid of muck that a swamp created. Disgrace held meaning now, rage, and power. Desperately he prayed for the man to climax and leave him. To escape his line of vision before he broke and damned his own destiny even more than it already had progressed.

Somehow his prays were heard and the count released inside his body, then without skipping a beat hastily pulled away. As he stood he stretched, his withered body shaking as he grabbed his clothes and proceeded to dress. Silk, a mountain of material, and fragrant wraps donned his body, giving him the appearance of an obese penguin.

Important... hardly, worthy...hardly, desirable...such a sinful label to attach.

Only when he smothered himself in expensive clothes and tried vainly to appear above everyone else did title lamely stick. Grinning, his lips turning upward in a leer that exposed his rotten, yellow teeth, he puffed out his chest and tried to smooth the wrinkles that his little exploration had caused. All around disorder rained, the room darkened by a haze of scented oils and half way burned candles.

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Naruto's POV.

I was thankful for this, for the slight obscurity. In some ways it helped…..just in some. As I stared at the lecherous, filth that dared to call himself a man, I felt the need to strangle myself. To suffocate the pride that threatened to end my life. Subjugation was what now filled me, the putrid stink of this word settled in my chest, threatening to make me expel the sake and rice I was forced to eat in the blasphemous company of this man. Before my crouched figure, my body taking the form of a cowering dog before its master, my client's smirk disappeared and repulsion took its place. Stretching one sweat, slicked hand out, he grabbed a handle full of coins and tossed them at my face. Then, waving his hand with an arrogant air of importance he left.

It was always the same. The same ending, the same beginning. Always repeating.

Staring down at the coins that littered the floor, partly covering my redden skin I more than felt the nerve to scream. Reaching my hands up towards my face I buried them in my hair and silently hummed a lullaby; my last form of sanity, of inner peace I hadn't even realized i had closed my eye untill i pried them open and transfixed my vision upon the shabby currencies in front of me. Eight round pieces of silver, their surface faded, jaded, and not worth even a cent of the product that the man had just bought. I didn't bother to pick them up, to touch their warm surface as it would serve no purpose.

Again it was always the same, never ending. A constant rerun.

The noise created by a bamboo screen opening stifled my train of thought and forced to look towards the door. There, dressed in half way decent garments was my owner, my master, and my source of hatred. "I truly am a dog," I thought half heartedly, not even bothering to lace it with self loathing or raw hatred.

Seconds passed, a vein formed in the fat overly large forehead of my boss as time ticked by. Finally the coins that were situated around me snatched up. Large, grubby fingers sliding over their surface in a speedy haste to hold them. Greed truly was the worst and most disgusting sin of all. Locking eyes with my master, my enmity, I felt a blush of heated shame overtake me. Bringing my knees close to my chest I reached a hand out to grasp my fallen red kimono.

My symbol of servitude.

"Tell me you pathetic whore, did you please the count well? Did you feel even a trace of honor to be with such a high paying customer?" The long, ghastly draw of the man that called himself Mizuki instantly chased away my shame, allowing rage to surface. Pitiful really. Twisting my face into a truly hideous sneer I snorted, exposing my teeth and narrowing my eyes. I truly am a dog.

"Ha! Yes years of slamming back rotten sake and week old rice must have killed what was left of your brain cells. Honor you say! Don't make me laugh, licking the floor contains more honor that allowing that barbaric piece of inbreeding to touch my body." I released my anger and sealed my fate. My reply was expected and somehow still managed to shock me. I thought I had lost the ability to use words with more than three letters. My boss was not surprised however. My master knew this and created this game of back talking to create a purpose to mar my face.

It was always the same. The same routine, the same pain.

His eyes quivered and then his fist connected with my face. Pain registered throughout my mind as my body reeled back. The coarse grain of the floor brutally scrubbed against my naked skin as a foot was slammed down upon my tender stomach. Words were yelled; their meaning becoming blurred as I blocked all sound from entered my mind, and instead focused solely on the pain. Pain, my one source of affirmation. Without it I would truly be reduced to the whimpering, one track mindset of a pet.

Minutes passed, time becoming cruel again, before my owner relented and left me to pick up the filth, the pieces of everything.

It was always the same... and I desperately wished for it to change.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Control

Warnings:Adult themes, AU, Sex

Disclaimer: this is my story but Naruto does not belong to be!

Thanks everyone that has reviewed!

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Control. That was the one word that flowed across the blonde's mind and kept him from destroying everything that surrounded his body. His hands clenched, his back stiffened, and his mind fought the nauseating feeling of short circuiting. Control. Simple precious restraint. The solid principle and lesson that he would not let go of. Without it he would be reduced to a mindless beast, an idiotic primate, a common mongrel. Chains, the imprisonment of being whore, without this one word he'd lose the miniscule part of his soul that he had salvaged and kept hidden. Without it he'd be just another jaded human, a conformist. He'd be just like the other working boys that stared out at the world with hollow eyes and a mind that that was so warped that they just allowed life to slowly slip through their fingers.

Still, there were times that he felt like giving up, letting go of everything, and transforming into a good "pet". Routine, the word that he grimaced at and felt like butchering it until nothing remained. Routine, the story of his life, the thing that kept him imprisoned in a box lined with regret. The one thing that, in his mind, kept time flowing and customers lining up to push him down upon his knees to fuck him into the floor. It kept him having to wake up every morning and find himself following a set list of rules and restrictions. A starving dog had a better life.

The sun would peak over the edges of the horizon. Splashing a faint stream of color and he would be awaken by the screaming of his boss's voice. Quickly he leave his roach infested room and go to service whatever need his keeper demanded of him. Most mornings a simple blow job would be all the labor Mizuki demanded of him. On the days when Mizuki wanted more he was forced to bear his master's sick fetishes. Whips, belts, knives, and even a scorching poker were just some of the things that turned the slob of a man on. It was bruising, it was degrading, and he bore ever second of it.

When he had finished such a grotesque act, he was expected to cook for the man. In return he got pushed to the floor again and used as a table. Later, after the youth had dusted off the crumbs and strips of food that the beast that spewed across his skin the blonde began the act of cleaning the entire harem. Hours passed and after his hands were scrubbed raw he'd continue tending to his master's sick desires. By the time the sun had set and darkness claimed the land he was pushed into a room and forced to don a costume.

His hair would be pulled, his skin burned by bleaching cream, his nails scrapped clean and painted with toxic smelling paint, the blonde's eye lids encrusted with over the top expired makeup. His body would shake, his lungs begging for air as he squeezed into a corset that was pulled to the point of suffocation. He was cheap, he was affordable, and he was there for the pleasure of others. He fit the act to a tee. Years of such work had turned him into an expert. Afterwards, after he had lain on his back, allowing the customers to have their way with his body, he'd pick up his clothes and prepare to be accosted by Mizuki.

Nothing changed; time continued on, nothing shocked him except the splash of cold water every morning that he was "graced" with for his bath. So when morning came and he had fed Mizuki, he had expected to start cleaning. He had expected to scrub the floors, all the while ignoring the pain that shot from his stomach and burned like a smoldering fire. Mizuki hadn't been kind with his abuse last night, he never was. He groaned and braced himself as he walked down the hall toward the cupboards that held the outdated cleaning supplies. Reaching out to grasp the handle he was startled when he pushed to the floor and found Mizuki barreling down the hall. Suddenly he was lifted up and dragged towards the room that held as the working boy's wardrobe. Uneasy curiosity presented its self to him as Mizuki began screaming orders and he was rushed into a silk black kimono.

The fabric slide across his skin like water and he wondered why he was being allowed to wear such an expensive article. Normally the blonde was draped into a handy down, frayed yukata that had belonged to two other boys. He wondered even more why his routine was being broken and why he thrown into the harem's fanciest entertainment room. He knew that Mizuki hadn't used this room in the years, the woven bamboo doors were sealed, and a warning issued to never enter it. All around his fellow job companions were furiously scrubbing at dust. He wasn't dumb, he wasn't naïve, and he suspected what was to come out of such strange occurrences.

Lost deep in thought he didn't hear the rustling of fabric as two other working boys settled beside him and music began to strum throughout the room. What did shake his pensive thinking was the sound of Mizuki's high pitch voice as he rambled on about his establishment. The Yellow Dragon was Konoha's only harem that employed men and underage boys. Its entrance was faded, the paint peeling off in places, but its reputation for giving a customer an amazing time were known through the county. As soon as the sun disappeared the Yellow Dragon's door were thrown open and he was thrown to the floor.

"Hahaha, yes of course we can accommodate you and your vassals. Yes of course we offer that!" Mizuki's normal stressed baritone voice was raised several decibels as he barked out replies to who ever had shown up at the Yellow Dragon during the morning hours. He wasn't shocked, he wasn't that surprised, he knew what was expected of him. The bamboo doors slid open and four men flowed through the entrance. They held their heads high; an air of supremacy was thrown about as all except one was smothered in silk.

He bowed, his fingers and head touching as he bent forward. Seconds passed before he withdrew from his position and stared into the eyes of the man that was arguing with Mizuki. The man was greedy and he could see that his boss clearly was going to charge them a hefty fine for their services.

"Fine, fine, fine, but the rumors about you and your _employees _must exceed my standards" He wanted to laugh, to mock the man that had subtly tried to express how important he thought he was. It was all the same, the customers were never anything different.

Mizuki smiled and clapped his manicured hands. Seconds passed and two servants appeared with trays sake and rice cakes ladling its surface. More words slipped from Mizuki's mouth as the men made themselves comfortable.

"And just let me say what an honor it is to have you seek us out. I'm sure," he turned to look at the blue eyed youth as he spoke. His eyes glassed unspoken pain if the he let his will surface and committed any unruly acts of defiance. "That everything will be to your liking. I'm lending you my best after all."

"Ahhh so this must be the Thorned Rose that everyone speaks about." The man, the fastest and most swabbed in cloth turned his glaze upon the blonde youth. He snickered inside. The Thorned Rose. That was his title, his nickname. Mizuki stumbled with his words at the remark, his eyes growing dark. The blonde secretly smirked. He had been graced with such a nickname after he had bitten off the penis of his first customer. He had been a well known merchant and word had gotten around about the boy that gave dangerous head.

"Yes and I hope he remembers his manners" Once again Mizuki sent him a look as two of the fat man's vassals turned their attention from Mizuki to him. He stared right back. They were wrapped tightly in gold silk, perfume sprayed across their body like lotion. The smell drifted to his noise and he fought the urge to gag. It was hideously potent, reminding him of Mizuki.

"Ahhh, but where's the fun in that?" He heard the fat man answer Mizuki and he was tempted to give him what he wanted. However the repercussions weren't worth it. Mizuki continued to talk, until the client grew annoyed so he quickly left, slamming the bamboo door and running off to count his money. With him gone the men advanced and the blonde went to work. Sake was dished out and greedily slurped down, rice gobbled up with speed, and clothes shed fast. They were drunk within seconds and immediately the lord's two vassals threw themselves upon the concubine's colleges. They screamed, the men's excitement building at the noises and the two other working boys surrendered their bodies to their clients. The blonde wasn't as lucky as the lord grasped his wrists and threw him to the floor.

He grabbed his ankles next, spreading his thighs widely apart. His clothes were ripped off, exposing his naked body. He shivered as air collided with his skin and he turned his head from the man who began licking his chest and stomach. This was what he was used to, turning his head to the side as men had their way with him. He'd just stare at the wall and wait until everything was over with.

However his eyes didn't hit the wall this time. Instead he met the eyes of the lord's third assistant. He was the only one not smothered in ridiculous clothes, the only one that had not gotten drunk, the only man that had not moved from his spot. He stared at the blonde, his black eyes bored into his and the concubine did something he had never done before, he blushed. His face reddened at the site of the man, his glare sending shivers down his spine as his boss pounded into the youth. The man, his hair so black it contained blue hues, never allowed his eyes to stop staring, to stop glazing at the blonde. He was a silent wall with a face handsomely stern.

"What's your name?" The blonde heard the question asked by the beast that had grabbed his mouth. It was a common question, normally the concubine would answer the Thorned Rose, however this time he refused to give his alias.

"Uzumaki…Naruto" He breathed as he turned his head again and met pitch black. "Naruto" he said again and like the man leaning against the wall, he never stopped staring. Not when he was forced to show how he had been giving his nickname, not when he was forced to suck his client off. He nipped at the throbbing organ, giving the man the best orgasm of his life. Still, when he once again thrown to the floor and pounded into by the fat man, all he could do was blush and be held captive by blackness. For the first time in awhile something unroutine like had happened.

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